


The Target.

by Sceadugenga



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Torture, Non-Canonical Violence, Not sure where I'm going with this but would be nice to link in to other works?, Other, Possible Character Death, Possible non-canon Mobius, Post Beacon, Run Seb Run!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:08:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4747571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sceadugenga/pseuds/Sceadugenga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the ‘incident’ at Beacon, Mobius realised that Sebastian Castellanos was either aware of them, or dangerously close to becoming so. For an organisation that lives in the shadows and doesn’t have a face, this is unacceptable. So they decide to hunt him – and to hunt a man who survives what Seb has – well, you need a special kind of hunter…</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Target.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, please do leave a review if you feel it's worth it. Been very busy with work so not been able to write but would be nice to get more down and perhaps link it all together. :) Thanks! Enjoy.

The Terminator. That’s what they called him. He wasn’t a giant, just topping 6’3. Nor was he as heavy as his namesake – just weighing in at 100kg.

But he was the stuff of legend – even in the dark halls of the Mobius building. They talked about him in hushed whispers – he was revered and feared at the same time. He had got his name in South America sometime after 9/11 and before the Second Iraq War. Word had it that he had been posing as a motorcycle police officer while chasing after a rogue asset that The Administrator and the Panel had wanted silenced.

He had chased him for half an hour through the winding streets, before the asset in the Custom made BMW decided he didn’t want to play ball. He had turned the tables and stopped, reversing backwards at high speed OVER the terminator and his bike. But this didn’t faze the terminator at all. He simply got up and sprinted towards the now reversing vehicle, emptying his entire magazine into the windshield as he ran. By the time he had finished firing, the asset had ceased to exist. But his passenger had not. Next, the terminator was blasted with a full magazine of a Desert Eagle at point blank range. But did he go down? No. He had simply proceeded to walk through the hail of bullets, grab his assailant by the neck and _kill him with his bare fucking hands_. Pretty good going for someone who was supposed to be a flat pasta strainer by this point, by all accounts. Only a terminator could take that level of punishment, and thus the name was born.

They avoided him in the halls, at any cost. It wasn’t that he was unfriendly – rumour was that he had a charming smile and a voice like silk. They avoided him because he was prone to killing anyone who he didn’t like. Or if he was bored. Or if he was hungry. By all accounts, the guy was a monster. Nobody knew his true name – they say he had once been an office jockey who had tried to expose Mobius to a national newspaper in a moment of foolishness. They allegedly whisked him away from his desk in the middle of the night and took him to a black site where they tortured him for a fortnight.

After the poisons and the truth telling serums failed, they racked him medieval style. When that didn’t work, they took a hacksaw to his body. They didn’t amputate, just sawed and sawed on his sensitive and secret places until he nearly died of blood loss. When that failed too, they flayed him. Slowly. When they realised that he would never talk, they decided to make use of his willpower and resolve.He had been carted off to a ‘re-education’ facility and never seen again.

About six months after this, a new figure had been spotted at the side of the Administrator. Unblinking, unflinching and always watching. Complete with a creepy smile that set even the most seasoned of agent’s hair on end, word had quickly spread. And this was before he was pulverised and set full o’ holes. He had been a constant fixture at the side of the Administrator for years now, and people knew that if he ever left – which occasionally he had done – he was doing something not worth thinking about. He had one place he liked to go to – the holding cells, the place where people who had pissed off Mobius were left to await their grisly fate.

It was here where he allegedly would take off things like hands and feet and cook them up, a la carte style. An eyewitness account once saw him take a straight razor to the eyes, nose, ears and tongue of a prisoner who had dared to spit in his direction. He then proceeded to force feed the poor man his own eyes, but not before he had taken a bite out of his now detached ears. Not that anybody would say this in front of him, but he was terrifying. A combination of The Terminator and Hannibal, he was best left to his own devices. There was one man he would always obey without question – the Administrator. He had been the one to re-educate him, so he was owed a debt of allegiance. The Administrator knew that his right hand man was feared, and rightly so – he used that to his advantage by having him follow him to meetings with the Panel and on occasional walks around the office.

Like a faithful dog, the Terminator never left his side and was always observing potential threats to his master. But he was also his confidant, one who he knew would never betray his secrets because he wasn’t programmed to fail, nor to give up. It simply wasn’t a part of his conditioning.

Therefore, he was perfect for the next task the Administrator was going to give him – and he knew he would enjoy it immensely.

He waited until a slow moment in the day between meetings and briefings and took a seat opposite his bodyguard, confidant and shadow.

“My good friend, I have a task for you”.

_“Of course sir, but name it and it shall be done.”_

“That’s what I like to hear, unflinching loyalty. Anyway, the task. There is a man, rather a _detective_ who has got rather too close to the truth about us, the STEM program and our 5 year plan for the future. He has proven resilient mentally and physically as he emerged from the STEM and therefore the mind of Victoriano whole. I would like you to meet this man and _kill him. Slowly._ But not before you ensure that _he has told you everything he knows._ I know he doesn’t have any family left – you saw to that when you burnt his house down in order to protect the cover of Agent Hanson. But nonetheless, _kill anyone who is mildly important to him if you feel he has blabbed. In fact, don't take the chance._ Get all his photos, his phone contacts - anyone who was a part of his life that he could have told _and kill them. Erase any trace of him from existence_ \- then come back to me. _Understood?"_

The silence that filled the room confirmed what was being said more than words ever could. With a curt nod and a quick bow in the Administrator’s direction, the Terminator left the office. He was going on a hunt, and he was going to catch a big one. Oh, he couldn’t wait…


End file.
